Blighted
by enby-hawke
Summary: A mysterious virus related to the Blight has hit multiple parts of Thedas at once and the Hawke family must find out how to survive in the ghoul apocalypse. Warning for dark themes, violence, transphobia, and character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

_Taken from the journal of Lucky Hawke. 24th of Wintermarch 9:30 Dragon_

How did things get fucked so quickly? I know I shouldn't be alone right now. Dad's probably looking for me but I can't face him. I can't face any of them.

I just had to make a joke. I don't even remember what I said. Something stupid probably. Mom was so scared. Everyone was. We found an abandoned drug store. Stopped for supplies. I was supposed to be looking for food but I couldn't stand the tension. Didn't think the dead drug store clerk sitting in the chair with a shotgun hole in his stomach would get up and grab me. Didn't think Mom had so much strength. Didn't think she could wrench him away.

I crashed into a shelf and when I looked up the monster had bitten her on the shoulder. I moved to stop him but Dad got their first, impaled a spike of ice into his forehead, and tore him off Mom. He smashed the man's head into the counter, his blackened brains sprayed everywhere.

Bethany was already beside Mom, healing her wound. Carver was in shock and so was I. Dad rushed to Mom's side, but I could already see Mom's wound, her veins blackening with each heartbeat.

She looked at me, but she was smiling, sympathetically. I could see it in her eyes, telling me she'd do it again.

Was I crying? I know Bethany was. I know Mom was. She took Bethany's hand still blue from trying to heal the wound and clasped it. "You have to go," she told us because none of us were moving.

Dad had not looked at me yet. "Bethany did a good job closing the wound. We should be less than a day from Lake Calenhad. If any mages-"

"We talked about this, Malcolm," Mom interrupted. Her lip was quivering and she looked in pain, her skin already gleaming with sweat. "You have to protect them." She placed her hand on the stolen sword on Dad's hip. "You have to."

Dad's shoulders stiffened and he only turned his chin towards me. "Charlie, take your siblings into the car. Guard them."

"Yes, sir," I replied automatically. I flinched hearing my old name but said nothing.

Bethany shook her head, tears flying from her. "Daddy, no. We can take her to the Circle, like you said."

"Carver take her to the car," Dad snapped. Carver jumped and nodded. He knelt down beside Bethany and grabbed her by the waist. Bethany could have easily fought, but she was sobbing too hard. She kept holding Mom's hand but with Mom not holding back she slipped out easily.

I turned away to escort them, a hand on one of my daggers when my Dad called my old name again.

I turned around. He still wasn't looking at me.

"Don't fuck up again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Some sibling bonding. Void magic is something Malcolm invented that is featured in my other stories.**

* * *

There wasn't time for a proper funeral for Leandra. Nobody had known what to say so silence kept them company, broken up with Malcolm's commands. Lucky and Bethany helped their father set the gas station on fire. Bethany then said a short prayer, everyone hoping that the Maker would pick up the ashes in the remains of what was left. She even remembered to include the man that killed their mother.

Lucky stared at the rearview mirror, watching the burning building fade into the distance and wondered if the Maker would be able to sort through it all. There were a lot of unburned bodies they had already left behind.

They had a full tank now and could have easily made it to Lake Calenhad in a few hours if the roads had not been blocked by dead traffic. They cut through country roads and farmlands, almost getting the car stuck several times. Stragglers roamed the area but they were able to out-speed most of them.

They found a lake house, already cleaned of food and valuable supplies but it had sturdy walls. There was the exception of the glass doors which immediately Malcolm blocked off with stacked furniture. They had enough beds for the three of them but Malcolm insisted on only using the top floor that night. They pulled in a second mattress into the master bedroom. Then Malcolm drilled his children through scenarios, made them memorize each exit as well as where the car was. Then they shared a quiet dinner of canned microwaved spaghettis and soups. The shower at least was working, and they had to throw their clothes away. The family, mostly Leandra and Lucky, spent the night before telling random stories before they drifted to sleep. Tonight, it was silence.

Lucky took the first watch, sitting on the stairs, jumping at every noise and creak. He took to staring at the family pictures on the wall. Some of the walls were barer, where frames had once been. There was a blond boy with skinned knees holding a fish that looked like was taken on the dock outside. There was also another frame of an all blond family, dressed in their best Satinalia, posing for a picture that said, "Season's Greetings."

Lucky woke Carver at midnight to relieve him. Carver practically jerked back at his touch, slapping Lucky's hand away. Lucky didn't say anything. He just moved to the other side of the room and pretended to lay down. As soon as Carver was settled in, he crept through the child's bedroom and climbed onto the roof. He crossed his arms over the head, gazing at the moon over the lake thinking how dreadfully ordinary it looked.

His mother was dead, and with all communication with Denerim dead, Lucky had no idea if his friends were even still alive. He wasn't even supposed to be here. He had just driven home from school for the weekend, to surprise his folks. He had been rather distant since college. To be honest, he wasn't exactly the same person he was when he left. Or maybe he finally was the person he always wanted to be. He tried to let his family know in little steps how he was changing. New look, lots of offhand comments about how he chopped off his pretty curls. New pronouns, lots of confusion and jokes, but after a few arguments it was "respected." New name…impossible to accept. Lucky told himself he wouldn't let anyone stop him from being himself anymore and with Bethany's help, Mom was coming around.

And now she was dead. And he felt selfish continuing this path.

So he wrote.

At the beginning of all of this, when Chantry Mass turned massacre, Malcolm and the family rushed home, packing as much as they could into their voids. Leandra, instead, took out her collection of fancy notebooks and told everyone to pick one out.

It was just one of Mom's things. She had collected notebooks since she was a girl, and since coming to Ferelden, she had several boxes full, all untouched. If there was a new cute design at the store, she'd be sure to buy it, except during holidays or birthdays when she knew one of her family would get it for her, if they didn't accidentally get multiples. "We need a way to stay sane through all of this," she insisted when Malcolm said there was no time.

Leandra had already picked one out for Lucky. She said she was saving it as a birthday present but thought it best she give it now. It was a black notebook with a beautiful depiction of a dragon stitched in red thread. On the first page she wrote:

"Happy 24th birthday, Lucky." She wrote his name with extra flair. "I know I don't really understand what you're going through but I want you to know I'll always be here for you. You've always made me proud. For all the changes you'll continue to go through. Make it another great year, pup!"

He hadn't touched it until tonight. The tears hit the pages as the memory of his mistake was forced back into his mind. He wrote until his father's words stared back at him. "Don't fuck up again." Then he couldn't continue. He just stared at the words, feeling his world cave in.

He heard the window opening and turned, shrinking, expecting to see his father. It was only Bethany. She was in a clean light blue sweater and some wrinkled jeans. Her hair was in a mess of curls piled on top of her head in a loose puff.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said, smiling weakly.

Lucky offered no smile in return and looked back up to the moon. He opened up a white liquid-like void and stuck his notebook and pen in. "Just give me a few more moments."

Bethany settled down next to him, staring forward. "Alright, but promise me you'll get some sleep."

He cringed, thinking how useless he was as a big brother. Here, Bethany was the youngest, still picking up the remains of their family like she's always done.

Lucky looked over and placed his hand on top of Bethany's. He could tell she was holding back her tears, and if there was any condemnation it didn't reach her eyes. He kept thinking of what to say but the words were strangled in his throat. Before he knew it, tears were falling off his chin. "I'm sorry, Beth."

Bethany hugged him and he started sobbing into her neck. It was a ragged hoarse thing that tore up his throat. He could feel Bethany's shoulders trembling and hot tears hit his skin. What words could he say to comfort her? What pretty lies could he promise her? He could think of nothing. So he just broke down alongside Bethany as they comforted each other wordlessly.

Bethany pulled away, wiping her swollen eyes. "If I'm next-"

"You won't be," Lucky interrupted. The thought of her death was like a hot knife in his chest, too painful to even drive out.

Bethany shook her head forcing him to look in her eyes. "But if I am, it won't be your fault. Or Carver's. Or Dad's." Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked up at the sky, another tear streaking down her cheek. "Mom wouldn't want this."

Lucky lowered his eyes, the guilt drowning him. "Mom would still be alive if I was paying attention."

"Char- I mean Lucky," Bethany looked embarrassed, but Lucky smiled back, grateful she was trying at all. "It's not your-"

"Does Dad know you're out here?"

Bethany looked away, wiping her face with her sleeves, suddenly nervous. "He was snoring when Carver woke me."

"Then we better get back before I give Dad more reasons to hate me," Lucky tried to joke but it was more honest than he meant.

Bethany squeezed his hand. "Dad doesn't hate you…"

Lucky took his hand back, standing up. "We should get back."


End file.
